


Mistakes

by RetroLizard



Series: I want an Akushima Route [1]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Akushima Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 18:06:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5301485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroLizard/pseuds/RetroLizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does Aoba see when he scraps Akushima? What happens if he succeeds, and what happens when he fails?</p><p>Another entry for Akushima Week and a more detailed look at what's going on in that head of Akushima's. Spoiler alert: it's not pretty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistakes

He didn't remember how he got here. He didn't know where "here" was.

It was so dark, Aoba could only make out vague shapes, patches of light and dark. It was like a video tape that was copied, and then the copy was copied, and that copy was copied and so on until everything became fuzzy and distorted- that's what it reminded Aoba of. He was fairly sure he was in someone's house, a house he didn't know. And all he could hear was the crackling of static, constant but faint.

 _We were in the tower, weren't we?_ Aoba remembered and started to panic. What happened to Akushima? Why was he here? What the hell was this place? That was when he remembered...he scrapped him. In a moment of desperation, not knowing what else to do, he'd scrapped Akushima. He couldn't even be sure how long ago that was, it could've been five seconds or five hours, but he could be reasonably sure this indistinct sea of black and grey was the inside of Akushima's head.

Something moved in his periphery and Aoba tried to follow it with his eyes. One object was slightly more in focus than everything else - it was a young child, maybe six years old, at most. He was surrounded by crayons and scribbling on a large piece of paper with intent focus. Aoba didn't recognize this kid. He approached him, and his footsteps made no sound. _Hello?_

Aoba had tried to say something, to get the child's attention, but no sound had come out of his mouth. He tried again, and still nothing. The kid remained unaware of Aoba's presence. Despite only being a few feet away, Aoba was pretty sure the boy couldn't see him. Looking over his shoulder, Aoba could see a childish depiction of three people, presumably two adults and a child, as the one in the middle was half the size of the others. Though his vision was terribly fuzzy, if he squinted, Aoba could see words written below each figure.

On the right side, 'Mom'. On the left, 'Dad'. And in the center, 'Hiro'. The mother's blue uniform and badge made her profession immediately evident. Aoba smiled, thinking with a touch of nostalgia the brief period of his own life that he'd had both a mother and father. Any kid with a proper family was a lucky one, he thought. His smile faded when something curious caught his eye. The boy had scribbled something above his dad's head, in yellow. An oblong circle? With an instant of dark realization, Aoba knew what it was. Maybe this child wasn't so lucky after all.

At once the boy's hand stilled, and he looked at his picture with a proud expression. He must have decided it was finished. He jumped up from where he sat, taking the paper with him, and shouted. The static heavily distorted his voice, but Aoba was fairly sure he was calling his mom. Aoba watched as he ran towards a short-haired woman and displayed his artwork to her excitedly, and she leaned down to take it from him. He pointed at various places on the drawing and spoke at a mile a minute, and Aoba couldn't catch most of his explanation.

"Good job, Hiro-kun!" the woman said through the static, and ruffled her son's hair. "Let's --" The rest was too garbled to understand. As Aoba watched, the image faded into black and grey, and he could no longer make out any concrete objects in his surroundings. It became merely a void. The static grew a bit louder, and as it did, images slowly came into focus again.

Aoba's heart almost stopped.

The first thing he saw was a body slumped against a wall, a woman. Colors were a bit less muted now, but they didn't need to be for Aoba to know what soaked her clothes and the carpet beneath her. He forced his eyes away, looking around the room, and realized someone else was here. In an adjacent kitchen, sitting on the floor and curled with his knees to his chest - a teenage boy. Even with about a decade's worth of age added, Aoba was sure it was the same little boy.

Tears streaking his face and shoulders shaking with his sobs, he was speaking into a phone, and of course through that incessant static Aoba couldn't decipher actual words. Only shouting, anger, heartbreaking desperation. The boy clearly couldn't bring himself to look at his mother and Aoba wasn't sure he could look again either.

Why was he here? What was the meaning of all this? Aoba started to get angry, trying to make sense of this...this awful scene.

Just then, the world distorted once more, and when it came back into focus, the image was more clear even than before, and there were a lot of people here. Dozens? A hundred? Aoba couldn't be sure. They all stood upright and shoulders back, all looking in the same direction, and as he turned his head, Aoba saw a stage, and a man delivering a speech. Looking back at the crowd, each man and woman present was in the same uniform. It was a graduation ceremony.

The face of one man in particular immediately caught his eye. Aoba didn't even question it - it was the same little boy, the same crying teenager, but now he was a grown man, and now he wore a serene smile. He looked just about on top of the world. Aoba felt his own spirits lift just looking at him.

And it clicked - Aoba knew who he was. Of course! Who else would it be?! This was Akushima's mind he was in, and yet somehow he didn't really piece it together until now. But the young man he was looking at was...hardly recognizable. Even knowing it was Akushima, Aoba couldn't believe this was the same person. He didn't see how it was possible.

Without warning, everything went pitch black, and once more Aoba had to wait until his vision came back. There were only two people now, a man and a woman. He had no idea who the woman was, but the man was a no-brainer. Though still not quite the face of the Akushima he knew, this was definitely the closest approximation yet. And it wasn't only age, though Aoba couldn't pinpoint what else it was. Something in his eyes, he thought.

By the look on his face, he seemed to be pleading. He was arguing with the woman, and the woman was angry, a fed-up kind of angry. Without being able to hear a word, Aoba felt like he knew exactly how this discussion was going. Akushima was losing.

He kept saying things, maybe defending himself, maybe trying to convince her of something, and her replies got shorter and shorter, until finally she didn't even speak. She only shook her head. With a sad look on her face, she couldn't meet Akushima's eyes. He watched as she took his hand, put something in it and closed his fingers into a fist. Without another word or even a parting glance, she turned on her heel and walked away from him. Akushima seemed to stare at her back for a while, and Aoba did too.

He looked back over to Akushima and looked down at his hand. It was open, and in his palm rested a gold engagement ring. For reasons he couldn't comprehend, Aoba became furious, so much he felt himself shake. That was when he realized - these weren't his own feelings, but Akushima's. With his gaze directed downward, Akushima's face was the very picture of stoicism. He couldn't be completely sure, but Aoba didn't think his anger was directed at that woman, at least not entirely. Someone else was to blame.

The scene changed once more, with static so loud now that Aoba covered his ears to block it out. It did nothing to stop it. Aoba was in what looked like an office, large and well-decorated with a massive ornate window overlooking a glittering cityscape. Soon Aoba understood why. Seated behind a huge oak desk was none other than Toue. Standing not far behind him was an unassuming man in a nice suit, and to Toue's other side, sitting in a lone chair was...a boy, in his young teens. He had long, jet-black hair and dark eyes that stared at nothing, his pale face utterly expressionless. Aoba got a weird feeling he'd seen this kid somewhere before, but he had no idea where.

Sensing a presence at his side, Aoba looked and saw Akushima, standing before the desk to face Toue. His body language looked, to Aoba at least, almost guarded, or like he was trying to make himself bigger. He had a determined look on his face and was speaking with confidence. Toue listened and nodded, then his mouth moved as well. Aoba couldn't even hear hints of human voices, not now that the static had become this deafening, but he could see more clearly than ever before. Toue wore that confident smile, the same one he always seemed to have when he appeared on television, and Aoba could tell he'd interrupted Akushima.

Akushima tried to speak up, and Toue continued to calmly speak over him. While Toue remained perfectly collected, Aoba sensed Akushima becoming more and more heated. Watching the exchange continue between the two, Aoba felt anxiety bubbling up inside. There was something wrong. Something bad was going to happen, he didn't know how he was so sure, but he was positive something wasn't right here.

 _Say no_ , Aoba thought. _I don't know what Toue wants, but tell him to fuck off. Say no, damn it!! Don't listen to him!_

Akushima looked like he was putting up a hell of a fight, but there was a hint of doubt in his eyes. He looked down at his feet, his hands clenched into fists, his jaw set tightly. _Don't give up_ , Aoba wanted to say, he _tried_ to say, but his voice didn't exist here. He couldn't do anything here. But oh god, he didn't want Akushima to give up, he didn't want Toue to win. Aoba was startled when Akushima slammed a fist on Toue's desk. He shouted audaciously at the all-powerful megalomaniac, despite everything stacked against him, and for a shining moment Aoba was _so_ proud of him.

 _That's right!_ He cheered. _Stand up to that asshole! Tell him what's what!_

His joy was terribly short lived. Toue looked only slightly miffed, made a face and shook his head. He said something to which Akushima didn't seem to know how to reply, and he beckoned for the young boy that had been sitting silently behind him this entire time. The suited man went over to the kid, took him by the arm and forced him to his feet. The boy looked like he had a hard time walking unassisted, but he made his way to Toue's side, his gaze fixed on the ground. Akushima watched all this, as thoroughly confused as Aoba was.

Aoba's anxiety had gotten worse. The closer that young boy came to Akushima, the more worried he felt, and the static in his head was getting louder by the second. It actually hurt now, and Aoba desperately wanted it to end.

Toue put a hand on the teen's shoulder, and the boy looked up on cue. Those dark, emotionless eyes fixed directly onto Akushima's, and Aoba screamed, feeling the noise in his head surge excruciatingly. His vision went white instantly, and he felt himself fall to his knees.

The next time he came to his senses, Aoba was in the dark. Not just vague shadows this time, real, empty darkness. At least, thank all that was holy, that fucking noise was gone. As he looked around for any sign of Akushima, Aoba heard himself breathe. Was his voice back?

"A...Akushima?" Finally, he could speak again. Searching desperately, he called out once more. "Akushima??"

"Why are you here?"

The voice came from directly behind him, and Aoba spun around. Akushima was a child again; if Aoba had to guess, probably around the age when his mom died. But it was him, without a doubt, and Aoba breathed a sigh of relief. "Listen, we have to get out of-"

"Answer me," Akushima interrupted him. "What are you doing here?"

Aoba wasn't entirely sure, now that he thought about it. He was silent for a few seconds. "I saw your memories," he said quietly.

"Yeah, so what?" Akushima demanded, not hiding how irritated he was. "It's all in the past, right? I can't change any of it, can I?" His young face, still dotted here and there with freckles, was contorted angrily. "So what's the point of making me remember all this? What do you want from me?! WHY ARE YOU HERE?!"

Aoba flinched a little when he was yelled at. Maybe Akushima was right to be angry. Did Aoba actually have any right to try and fix Akushima? _Could he_ fix him? He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. This couldn't be for nothing, all of this happened for a reason. He only had to make some sense of it, to understand why he saw all of these memories.

"Your mom," he said softly. "You...really wanted to be like her, didn't you?"

"Yes," he admitted harshly. "I did."

"You still do."

Akushima glared daggers at Aoba. The anger in him just didn't want to die, it was like all he knew how to feel was angry, so that's exactly what he did. "What are you trying to say? I fucked up? You think I don't know that?!!" His chin trembled, and tears formed in his eyes. "I'm nothing like her, not even close."

Aoba felt helpless, watching the kid hide his face behind his arm as he wiped his tears away. "Akushima..."

"I ruined everything, okay? Everything. It's all going to hell now, thanks to me," he rambled through his tears. "And we're both probably gonna die soon, so what's the point? It's too late!" Aoba's mind flashed back for a second to the tower. Where they'd been before he entered scrap...where they still were, in reality. With a pang of fear, he realized the odds were not in their favor, and death was a very real possibility.

The child in front of him...was not a child at all. He looked that way, but he was a man. He was the head of Midorijima police, Akushima Hiro. And for the first time in all the years Aoba had known him, he actually knew who he was. The child before him continued to cry, and acting on instinct, Aoba moved forward and tightly wrapped his arms around him.

"You didn't ruin everything," he whispered, struggling to keep his own emotions under control, for Akushima's sake. "You didn't, okay? It's not your fault."

"But Aoba..." The voice had changed, startling Aoba, and his body and changed too. He was back to normal - the Akushima of the present day. "I can't go back and fix all my mistakes," he said, leaning into Aoba's shoulder. "What am I supposed to do?"

Aoba embraced him more tightly, inhaling sharply. As much as he wanted to be strong, he trembled. This couldn't be the end for both of them, it just couldn't. There had to be a way, there had to be _some_ way to make everything okay again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for the conclusion. Two more chapters to be added, one bad end and one good end.


End file.
